


The Long Road

by Ly__canthrope



Category: No Fandom
Genre: Discovery, Gen, Journey, creative story, prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-20
Updated: 2017-11-20
Packaged: 2019-02-04 17:08:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 713
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12775578
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ly__canthrope/pseuds/Ly__canthrope
Summary: Just a piece based on the prompt, 'discovery'





	The Long Road

The faded, discoloured tarmac stretches further than the natural eye can see; a long, windy snake surrounded by sun bleached paddocks. It is hot, unbelievably hot - the heat on the road shimmers ahead and warps any perception of distance. 

I wind down the window and let a gust of warm air embrace me like an old friend. It smothers me with its humidity and offers no relief. My tentative hand edges out the window and lets the wind carry it, floating alongside the travelling car. The breeze caresses my face and the dazzling sunlight soaks into my skin. My thoughts travel back to my youth, on this very same road Dad would be gunning it down the highway and I would wind down the window and allow my hand to glide beside the car, let the wind play with my hair and the sun warm my skin. 

I want to give myself over to those memories, yearning to feel the same as I was as a child but no comfort appears. I was hoping that something would click and fall back into place, that something familiar would give me the safely I was seeking. It never comes. 

My feet presses down on the pedal, gunning my way down the highway and the loud rev of the car resembles my baited frustrations. Time seems endless out here, with the road stretching on and the same paddocks being repeated. There was little to keep you same except for the dashboards illuminative clock and foolish games. We used to play ‘I spy’ to pass the time, “I spy with my little eye - something beginning with … P”. Dad would always humour me and guess “pigs” or the occasional “puddle” but you had to ignore the repetitive answers. There are only so many times you can say road, tree, sun, paddock. 

The first landmark whizzes past and I almost miss it. Almost. It is the typical welcome sign, greeting anyone who passes by. The sight was always a welcomed relief, a reassurance that you weren’t lost. Mum used to always stop and capture a photograph of me standing beneath it. It became a tradition; pullover, position the child and snap the picture. “It is for the memories” she would always say. I feel the temptation to pull over, to take that photo and continue that one tradition. 

Except I do not. It has been too many years and it seems silly to taint the legacy my family has created at this monument. I am alone; so I leave it behind and continue driving. 

Kilometres are swept beneath the car and slowly sun kissed paddocks give way to a populated town. I slow down, abide the town rules and cruise the streets. This was always the second landmark, the point where you realise you are almost there. To commemorate, I would beg Dad to pull over and I would race to the quaint post office and select a postcard. I collected so many from that one little shop. Each year, there would be a new design and I would be fascinated by the bold colours and picturesque photographs. I always left that town with a postcard, there was no exception. 

I wonder if that post office is still there today. My eyes dance around the streets, trying to seek it out but I am driving too fast and I find myself leaving town. No postcard at all. 

My faded, discoloured tarmac changes to ebony concrete and I feel betrayed. Even my road has changed whilst I’ve been good and any sense of familiarity is lost. I become a stranger travelling these parts on a map I remember, although it does not remember me. 

I don’t even feel obligated to turn as that one place edges closer. That place that once drew a gradual crescendo has lost it’s flourish. 

Instead the world swells and an invitation to explore the unknown where possibilities are endless is present. I am safe to leave it behind, to say goodbye to the memories that define my childhood, that define my innocence. And so I am off, travelling down a path I have never been before. The unknown sets my nerves on fire and I feel energised as the card chews up that ebony concrete.


End file.
